The House of Blue
by Misanagi
Summary: Gryffindor isn't the only brave House or the only one to pay the consequences of bravery under the Carrows regime. Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Neville Longbottom and D.A.


**The House of Blue**

**By Misanagi**

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Gen

Characters: Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Neville Longbottom and D.A.

Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, violence, torture.

Summary: Gryffindor isn't the only brave House or the only one to pay the consequences of bravery under the Carrows regime.

Words: 5000

* * *

It hadn't been a Gryffindor decision, not really. When Amycus Carrow had heard that noise and gone out to investigate, Michael had know this was his only chance. It wasn't the first time they had tied someone in the dungeons, Merlin, Seamus Finnigan had been there not two weeks ago, and they knew with the charms in place it was impossible to free anyone without getting caught.

But Amycus had left in a hurry and the door was open and inside a small first year Gryffindor was chained to the wall by his wrists, his short legs not even reaching the floor, and he was crying.

There was no time to get help, no time to plan this more. Michael knew he needed to act now or resign himself to simply give an enraged speech at the DA meeting tonight instead of doing something about it.

He knew he was going to get caught. He went into the dungeon anyway.

He was quiet and made sure he wasn't seen by any other students and when he reached the room the Carrows had been using for detentions - torture was more like it - he walked in without thinking it twice.

Whatever had distracted Amycus wouldn't keep him for long so Michael wasted no time. With a quick spell he removed the chains from the boy's slim wrists and took his hand. He moved as fast as he could, pulling the boy up the stairs and ignoring the boy's sniffles for the moment. There would be time for that later; the boy's House would take care of him, Parvati and Lavander would read him a story like they had done with the little ones many times before, but for now Michael needed to hurry, he needed to get the boy into the relative safety of the Gryffindor common room.

He rushed up the stairs and when the boy started slowing down Michael picked him up. Then he heard Amycus yell. He was out of time.

"Corner!"

He risked a glance behind him and saw Alecto glaring at him from the bottom of the flight of stairs he was currently climbing. He made it up and turned a corner just as a spell brushed past his ear.

He was panting already and there were still two floors to the Gryffindor Tower. It didn't matter though, he had been seen but if he could get the first year away from the Carrows it would be worth it. They had a preference for picking on the older students, wanting the challenge of breaking them, and there wasn't a seventh year not sorted into Slytherin or with a Death Eater for a parent that hadn't spent sometime in the dungeons.

The students were looking at him now, two Hufflepuff third years, a Slytherin boy and Colin Creevey who was running towards him.

"Take him to your common room, now!" Michael said, thrusting the first year into Creevey's hands before turning back, ready to do the stupidest thing he had ever done. He pulled out his wand and cursed Alecto Carrow.

The burden of knowledge, he thought as he felt her spell hit him, was in knowing the best plan of action and then knowing for sure it required a stupid move on your part.

* * *

No less than twenty people had seen Michael Corner dragged magically behind Alecto Carrow through the castle all the way from the sixth floor to the dungeons and those who hadn't seen it could tell the path by the trail of blood that marked the floor.

Filch hadn't cleaned it and after seeing it, it had taken Neville less than a minute to find out which of his friends had been taken. Some students had seen Michael curse Alecto but no one could tell him why and it wasn't until he made his way to Gryffindor's common room that Colin Creevey told him what he knew of the story.

The first year was a boy named Jonathan Reed. He had refused to curse a fellow classmate in Dark Arts class and then insulted and actually tried to punch Amycus Carrow when he cursed Melinda Walters himself. The first years had seen Amycus take the boy out of the classroom by his hair and into the dungeons where he was chained to the wall and Cruciated before Amycus left for a moment, distracted by a couple of Slytherins who had knocked down a suit of armor.

Michael had saved the boy and taken his place.

By diner time a quick glance at the Ravenclaw table showed that Michael wasn't there and the pale faces of the seventh years told Neville that they were just as worried as him, or more.

They had been doing different raids all year long, letting the students know that there was a resistance, that they weren't willing to just submit to the Carrows, to Voldemort and to the world as it was and that even if they were in school, they would still fight.

They had paid for it dearly too but even when they had been caught no one had raised a wand to one of the Carrows openly before. They always made sure that when they did their identities were concealed and the open defiance consisted in back talk or refusing to obey their laws. It was a passive resistance, a smart one and whenever Neville's ideas were just too bold, too careless, it was Terry, Michael and Anthony the ones who helped fix them, helped make the plan still daring but also cautious, smart.

The Ravenclaws were supposed to be the smart ones. Michael was supposed to be smarter than this.

Neville sat down in silence with the rest of his House and waited. Snape wasn't at the head table, which wasn't unusual in itself. He didn't join the students in the great hall more than once a week. Amycus Carrow, however, was standing and looking at the rest of the students.

"One of you, little whelps, has gorn an cursed my sister Alecto. He's paying for it. We ain't letting him or any of you get away with it. We're in charge of discipline here and he will be punished." There was a light in his eyes when he said those words. It was never a good thing when Amycus got exited about punishment, Neville could tell that from personal experience. "Oh yes, he will."

The rest of the meal was spent mostly in silence. They didn't dare to talk about DA stuff during meals and neither Neville or anyone else seemed to be in the mood for small talk. They made their way to the Tower after dinner and after making sure the young students were in bed and had made it relatively unscratched through the day, Neville prepared to go to the Room of Requirement for their meeting.

"I'm staying," said Lavander when everyone started to leave. One of the seventh years usually stayed in the Tower in case anything happened. Taking care of the smaller students had been a priority set from the very first DA meeting of the year. Parvati was scheduled to stay tonight but she didn't look surprised with Lavander's statement.

"The first years are nervous and Jonathan won't be sleeping well tonight. Parvati will take the girls and I'll stay with the boys. Let us know what you decide about Michael." Lavander locked eyes with Neville. "If you decide to go get him we are coming with you."

Neville nodded once and made his way to the Room of Requirement with Seamus and Colin following him. This was a small meeting; only the older ones would be attending, which meant mostly seventh years and a few sixth years. When they made it to the room Anthony, Terry and Padma were already there, looking worried.

"Morag stayed," Padma said as greeting. "The little ones are nervous."

Neville nodded in understanding. "Parvati and Lavander did too." He turned to Anthony and Terry. "Do you know anything?"

"Scott saw when they dragged him into the dungeons. They had him in a body bind and let him hit the stairs and walls on the way." Terry was pale but his hands were closed into fists and his voice wasn't the calm analytical one Neville had grown used to hearing.

"He's been there for hours already," said Anthony. "The longest they've keep anyone is four hours." He looked at Neville who had been the unlucky one to set the record. "It's been six."

Just then the door opened and Ernie, Hannah and Susan walked in. "So he's not out yet," Susan sighed.

"I walked pass the dungeon this afternoon on the pretense of looking for Slughorn," Ernie said, frowning. "I could hear Alecto yelling but nothing else."

Neville's breath caught. They all knew how ugly things got when Alecto yelled.

"And you couldn't hear him?" asked Terry softly.

Ernie shook his head.

"He's not quiet," said Anthony. "The first time they Cruciated him he swore in several languages which only made them do it longer. Terry and I have been trying to make him stop or just scream but he won't."

"Maybe they gagged him," ventured Hannah but they all knew it wasn't true. The Carrows liked to hear the screams.

"They won't kill him," said Seamus. He raised his hands where clear red wounds of still healing scar tissue encircled his wrists, souvenirs from his last run in with the Carrows. "They'll hurt him but they won't spill too much pure blood." His face twisted into a scowl.

"No one has cursed one of them before, though. No one they had caught at least," commented Colin. "The way Alecto yelled at him, I thought she would kill him there." He looked at Anthony and Terry. "I should have done something."

"You did," Terry assured him. "You took the lad. That's what Michael wanted."

"He probably knew it was too late for him," added Anthony. "He's not particularly fond of the Cruciatus. He wouldn't provoke the Carrows without good reason."

Like a Gryffindor would do, Neville thought. They were all in the DA, they were all brave and had their own ways of standing up to the Carrows and Neville had learned at the beginning of the year to respect and admire each House and their way of rebelling. The Hufflepuffs had a way of taking collective punishments. If one was given detention most of the year showed up for it. The Carrows usually dismissed them but they still tried every time and never complained when the Carrows took the opportunity to punish them all.

Some Ravenclaws still put their schoolwork before everything but Neville knew the ones in the DA were failing Muggle Studies and Dark Arts. Ravenclaws failing on purpose… and they each took several punishments for turning in eloquent essays that contradicted the Carrows' theories and standing up in class to point out whenever a mistake was made, which turned out to be very often. "We feel obliged to make them aware of their lower than average intellect," Anthony had explained once, cleaning the blood of a split lip. "This is a learning institution, after all."

"Are we going to get him?" asked Ernie, looking solemn. "We don't know how bad this is but with what Amycus said at supper…" He left the sentence unfinished but the meaning was clear to everyone.

"We don't," said Terry finally. His fists had turned purple and he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. "If we do we would have to hide Michael for the rest of the year. They won't let him go like they did the first year lad. They want to make an example out of him." He shut his eyes tightly and Neville and the others ignored the single tear that fell. "We wait and we make sure to be ready for him when he gets back."

Anthony had moved closer to Terry, their shoulders touching. "We lay low and wait." He looked at all the DA members assembled and the pain was obvious in his eyes. He hated to say those words just as much as Terry had hated his, and their declarations pained them both. Neville would have objected if the words had come from anyone else, even Padma or Morag but these were Michael's best friends and if they could bear to make the tough decisions when it concerned Michael then Neville would abide by them.

Once, after a lesson where Michael had Cruciated Terry, Neville had asked angrily how he could bear to curse his best friend. Michael had looked at him the way one looks at a particularly slow child. "If I hadn't then Crab or Goyle or Carrow himself would have. The curse draws its power from intent. Who do you think feels more intent to hurt Terry?" A few days later Neville hadn't refused to curse Seamus and he discovered that he wasn't really strong enough to sacrifice his conscience in exchange of sparing his friend some pain.

"We wait," Neville announced. Michael would agree.

* * *

Anthony didn't sleep that night. The dormitory seemed too empty without Michael there, emptier than it had felt at the beginning of the year when two of their classmates hadn't made it back to Hogwarts.

His very first night in the dormitories Anthony had closed the curtains around him and tried to use a flashlight he had brought from home to read.

"Doesn't work," Terry had explained, opening the curtains. "Too much magic interferes with the Muggle electricity."

"Just keep the curtains open," Michael suggested. "We don't mind the light."

The lights were off now. Usually the candles burned into the long hours of the night while Anthony read and his roommates slept behind their heavy bed curtains. He hadn't felt like picking up his book tonight.

"We are not following our own advice," Terry's voice sounded from his bed. By his tone it was obvious that he was just as awake as Anthony.

"We are waiting," Anthony pointed out.

"But we're not resting. He'll need us awake and ready."

"I've tried reasoning that with my brain for the last hours, Terry, and I've reached the unpleasant conclusion that the Gryffindors might be right and sometimes reason can't overpower emotion."

Terry snorted and then said fondly, "Let's just hope too much exposition to the House of the Impulsively Stupid doesn't have any lasting effects."

They both turned their eyes to Michael's empty bed. The light of the moon outside was just enough for them to make the shapes and shadows of the room. "I'm worried," said Anthony needlessly.

Terry was silent for a moment. "I'm angry." He sighed and shook his head. "They are hurting him right now, hurting him for saving an eleven year old boy and there's nothing we can do but wait, wait and worry."

"We are doing things. What Michael did kept a small boy from being punished in ways he wouldn't have been able to handle. Michael knew that; we all do. We've known the risks and consequences from the beginning of the year."

"Sometimes I wish I was impulsively stupid," Terry said, his voice softer now. "Then I would just march right into the dungeons and _do something_, even if it got me chained right next to Michael, I wouldn't mind." His eyes lowered in shame. "But I know better."

"We both do," Anthony whispered.

None of them slept that night.

* * *

Morning arrived over a gray sky. Terry had watched as the light of the rising sun slowly illuminated the room. It wasn't very bright when he left the bed he hadn't slept in and took a quick shower. He and Anthony were dressed and in the common room, waiting for the rest of the House at least an hour before the time they usually met.

Morag was the next one to appear, followed by some sixth year girls. They waited in silence for the rest. Terry noticed that he and Anthony were getting worried looks but he ignored that. When the whole House was there Terry began leading them to the Great Hall.

It had been Ernie Macmillan's idea. After two second years from his House had been assaulted by some Slytherins they had decided to move in groups whenever possible, with the older ones looking over the young students.

Ravenclaw was the first House to arrive at the Great Hall and it was followed by Hufflepuff shortly after. Gryffindors and Slytherins arrived at the same time and by the scowls on their faces there had probably been a confrontation.

Terry and Anthony sat together and glared at their empty plates while the students around them ate quietly. The Carrows weren't at the High Table and that worried Terry. When he'd walked into the Great Hall he had held his breath, worried that he would find Michael there being tortured in some horrible way.

A few minutes later he discovered his fear wasn't so far from the truth.

Everyone was already eating when the double doors of the Great Hall slammed open and the Carrows walked in.

"Mike…" Terry heard Anthony whisper and followed Anthony's gaze to the ceiling. Terry felt nauseous. Above them, held upside down in the air by Amycus' wand was Michael.

Terry wanted to turn away but he couldn't. He didn't want to see the blood covering his friend from head to toe, the stripped scared torso, the bruised face or the right arm that was obviously broken and hanging the wrong way. He didn't want to hear Michael's gasps of pain or watch the droplets of blood leaking slowly to the floor. However he kept his eyes firmly up, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students and whatever the Carrows were saying.

Someone near him was crying and then Michael was screaming, his voice no more than a pained hoarse shout. Even though he felt like screaming himself, Terry couldn't help but smile when he noticed that his friend's yells were one obscenity after another. Somehow, beneath the blood, torture and pain, Mike was still there.

A hand grasped his wrist, hard, but Terry didn't have to look to know it was Anthony and they both watched in silence as Michael was tortured, watched his body wither with the pain of the Cruciatus and heard him shout until his voice gave out.

"This is what happens when little whelps raise their wands to me or me sister," Amycus said and then Michael was flung to the right wall, hitting it hard, but a moment later he was thrown to the left and then the right again. "Remember it." And with those words the spell holding Michael up was lifted and he plummeted headfirst to the hard stone floor.

Somehow Michael managed to turn himself and land on his right shoulder. The crack signaling a broken bone was louder than any shout.

"You're lucky we didn't break this," said Alecto. Terry moved his eyes away from his friend and saw she had Michael's wand in her hand. She walked to where Michael had fallen, just in front of the High Table and placed her foot on his left hand. "Go fetch it," she said, throwing the wand between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. "Then you can leave. No need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"The boy clearly needs medical attention," Flitwick said. He was standing on his chair, his face pale and his wand held loosely on his hand.

"He was punished," replied Alecto. "Punishments are supposed to hurt. His housemates can take care of him. Don't you all say they're the smart ones?"

Terry looked for the first time at the people around him. Several first years were crying and other students had their faces hidden in their arms, trying to avoid looking at the gruesome spectacle. At the High Table not only Flitwick was standing but the other Head of Houses were standing as well.

Michael raised his head slightly. He took a deep breath through his mouth and tried to use his left hand to drag himself towards his wand. He managed to move a few inches before he gasped and fell down.

Alecto's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Move or you'll be going back to the dungeon," she said and kicked him on the leg.

Terry didn't know who stood first but he and Anthony were up and moving towards their friend.

"His punishment isn't over," bellowed Amycus. "He has to get the wand."

Terry and Anthony stopped but they didn't move back to their seats. Then Padma was up and Morag, and then Ernie was picking up the wand, Hannah, Susan and Kevin standing by him. Neville, Seamus and Colin had moved to the front and were heading for Michael, and Lavander and Parvati were standing with the Hufflepuffs.

The Hall was silent as Ernie handed the wand to Anthony and he and Terry moved to the front, kneeled by Michael and placed the wand gently on his left hand. Terry glared at Amycus. He wasn't moving. He was staying by his friend no matter what.

"He has the wand," Flitwick said and he was glaring as well. "The punishment is over."

Amycus gave them one last hateful look before walking past the students and leaving the Great Hall.

"I better see you all in class," Alecto said before exiting herself.

The doors closed behind her and a hundred voices started speaking at once.

* * *

The moment the Carrows had left Flitwick was by their side. He used a spell that made Michael close his eyes in a dreamless sleep. Anthony had never been happier to see someone's eyes close before. The pain that he had seen was enough to wet Anthony's eyes. He didn't know who made the small ones step back but when Flitwick levitated Michael he had a clear path ahead of him to exit the Great Hall.

McGonagall said something. She was trying to keep them from following but Terry and Anthony kept walking silently behind Flitwick all the way up to the Ravenclaw dormitories. Anthony didn't even hear the question but the door opened for them and soon enough they were placing Michael on his bed. He was pale, still bleeding. His robe and shirt were gone and Anthony could already see scars under the blood.

"By Merlin, they almost killed him." Anthony had never heard Terry sound that scared before.

"He's in bad shape," admitted Flitwick. With a twist of his wand the blood was gone from Michael's skin and clothes and they stared in horror at the multiple wounds already visible.

"I need to go or they will come looking for me. Madam Pomfrey shall be here in minutes." Flitwick gave them a stern look. "Lock the door after me, open it only for her, understood?"

"Yes, Professor," answered Anthony and as soon as Flitwick was out of the room he started piling locking charms and protective spells on the door. When he was done he turned around and found Terry kneeling by the bed, a hand on top of Michael's uninjured one.

"Is it locked?" Terry asked, and even though Anthony assured him that it was, he stood up and added his own protections on the room, including the windows, floor and ceiling.

They waited in silence for Madam Pomfrey, looking at Michael and listening to his uneven breathing. It was minutes, as Flitwick had said it would be, but Anthony doubted there would ever be minutes longer than these.

They took the charms down to let her in just to place them again as she set to work. None of them asked how it was possible for her to be there or how they had convinced or deceived the Carrows. It didn't matter. They had all been denied access to the Hospital Wing in the past year and they had gotten better on their healing charms but none of them had been this hurt before. There had never been that much blood before.

Seamus words came back to him. Apparently the Carrows were more willing now to spill pure blood than before. Much more.

It was over an hour before Madam Pomfrey stopped casting healing spells and allowed herself a moment to rest. "I've healed the worst," she said. "I fixed his nose, right shoulder and a couple of fractured ribs. The marks on his back might fade. The burn wounds, however, will scar and I'm sad to say that his right arm might not heal completely."

"You've fixed broken bones before," Anthony said, trying to sound calm.

"Yes but he was chained with the broken arm and a bone shattering curse was used. It'll take time. His arm might not be the same again," she announced sadly but her features quickly changed to anger. "The Death Eaters like to break the wand arm."

"It isn't," Terry whispered. "He's left-handed."

Madam Pomfrey gave them a tiny smile. "A small blessing." She started unpacking potion bottles from her bag and placing them on the table. "I can't heal the bruises or they'll notice and they might hurt him again." It was evident by her tone how much she hated saying those words. "Give him this to help him sleep," she ordered, holding a small green vial on her hand. "Just a spoonful if the pain is keeping him up."

There was a blue potion for the burns, a light red one for the flogging marks, a yellow one for the bruises, a purple one for the throat, a brown one for the cuts and a deep red one for the arm.

"He'll be in and out of it for a while," she said before leaving. "Take care of him."

Anthony and Terry replaced the charms, settled by the bed and didn't move for the next two days.

* * *

Awake.

_He can't move. He hits the floor. Falls down the sharp staircases, each step bruising his skin. He can't stop. He's being dragged; his hands are useless by his side. Another stairwell. Someone screams. Pain. The taste of blood reaches his mouth. He can't breathe through his nose anymore._

Awake.

i_The chains are tight, the metal of the manacles digging into his skin. His arms are pulled high. The shoulders tense and ache. His feet barely touch the ground. The first curse is delivered and he fights, he moves and his wrists bleed. /_i

Awake.

_She's yelling. Her wand is raised and something flies towards him. Hits. Another. He gasps. The next one hits his cheek. Another on his torso. Something cracks. It's harder to breathe. Again. Again. By the end, there are more than fifteen rocks scattered around him._

Awake.

_His robe and shirt are gone. His tie is a blue rag covered in red on the floor. The air is cold. The tip of a wand touches his skin. He screams. The other says something, laughs. The wand touches again, on the chest, on the stomach, on the shoulders. He screams again. The other simply laughs._

Awake.

_He can't see them. The wall feels cold. There's a sound of splitting air. Pain. He tastes blood. Pain again. He bites through his lip. Pain. His back is on fire. Pain. His head hits the wall and he waits for the darkness to claim him. Pain._

Awake.

_They are calling him smart. They are calling him talented. They are calling him arrogant. They say they'll correct that. He sees the wand; hears the words. His arm is shattered. The scream dies in his lips. Unconscious at last. _

* * *

Awake.

Terry held his breath, knowing somehow that this time it was for real. Michael's eyes opened and instead of the glazed look Terry had grown used to in the past two days, Michael's eyes focused on his.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Michael's lips curved into a painful smile. "You have your OWLs face, Terry." The voice was barely higher than a whisper but it became a little stronger with each word. "How long have you been awake?"

Terry found himself returning the smile. "A bit," he said and placed his hand gently on Michael's left one. "I rather take them again than sit for two days waiting for you to awaken, though."

"You and me both, mate," Michael replied with a sigh.

"Then do us a favor and the next time you feel the urge to start acting Gryffindor go to the library and write an essay on Rowena Ravenclaw's virtues instead." Anthony was standing by Terry's chair now. They had been taking turns, allowing themselves to sleep an hour or two while the other kept watch over Michael. The charms they had cast two days ago were still in place and they hadn't allowed anyone in since then, though they had told Padma about Michael's condition through the closed door.

"Would you believe me if I said I wasn't acting Gryffindor?" Michael asked tentatively.

"Yes," Terry said. They had known it somehow.

"While your Arithmancy needs work, stupidly impulsive isn't one of your characteristics," Anthony agreed.

"Maybe just stupidly brave," Michael said.

Terry smiled. "I believe that's a requirement for joining the DA."

"Rationally brave," corrected Anthony. "I don't fancy myself stupid."

"Even if rationality requires us to do something stupid?" Michael raised an eyebrow and then winced slightly in pain.

"Then it isn't stupid, it's the logical thing to do," Anthony replied confidently.

"Unless you are Gryffindor," commented Terry.

Anthony gave him a mischievous look. "That goes without saying."

"Not that it wasn't educational," Michael said lightly, "but I don't think I'll be feeling rationally brave for a while." He was still pale, looking tired and sick but there was a twinkle in his eyes. A little worse for wear but Michael was still there, smirking at them the same as a few days ago.

"Leave some for the rest of us, Mike," said Terry with a grin.

Michael returned the grin. "Just be smart enough not to get caught."

Terry smiled and tightened his hold on his friend's hand. "I make no promises, mate."

Anthony placed his hand on top of theirs and with that simple gesture a silent promise was made. Friendship, after all, needed no words.

* * *

- The End -


End file.
